


It Was An Accident

by MarkedwRed



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Stiles, Blood, Derek Hale Saves The Day, Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Hale is Not a Failwolf, Derek Hale is Stiles Stilinski's Anchor, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Injured Stiles, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Not Beta Read, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Derek, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2020-07-30 22:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20104585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarkedwRed/pseuds/MarkedwRed
Summary: Stiles does something stupid. Gets hurt. Derek gets in the middle. It's nice. Then more drama and an underground supernatural and human trafficking ring?? On snap.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy part one.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit! Stiles thoughts had been reduced to that one word since this whole situation had gone south. 

While at college Stiles continued to improve on his magic and help solve supernatural crimes. This is how Stiles got himself into his most recent predicament. 

AKA being chased by an Alpha he had been following after the disappearance of a 13 year old girl named Emily. He knew that going after this guy alone would be dangerous. But seeing as Scott and Kira were on their trip to Europe, Derek and Peter hadn’t been seen for a few months, and everyone else was basically a fetus. Stiles thought he had no other choice.

He had managed to pin the guy after he showed up frequently to the disappearance sight. The culprit always returns to the scene of the crime right? He couldn’t be more than 18. Stiles began to piece the situation together. Some young werewolf who couldn’t control himself and went crazy. It wouldn’t be the first one he had seen this year. 

His small collection of information that he had collected after some minor stalking told him that his name was Henry and he lived only a few blocks away from Berkeley college.

Stiles was trying to size the guy up some more whilst following him around a busy cluster of night shop outlets. Stiles glanced to the left and stopped for a minute to feign looking through a lit up shop window. When he shifted his eyes back to where he had last saw Henry, he was gone. Stiles began to swing his head around and search for the teen. Did he really lose him?

Stiles sighed as he called it a night. It was already late and he had class early the next morning. He would have to pick it back up at another time.

As he arrived at the densely wooded, dirt lot where he had parked his jeep; the sun’s light was no longer visible. He glanced at his watch and made note that it was already 3. It was at this time that Stiles was thankful his English test was moved to next week.

He fumbled his keys out of his pocket and cursed when he dropped them before even getting them close to the driver’s side lock.

Stiles squatted down to reach for them when he got the feeling of eyes on his back. He made an effort to look around the area and noticed his car was the only one in the lot.

His nerves weren’t settled but he tried to ignore them so that he could go ahead and get in his jeep without having to deal with anything less than pleasant.

He snatched his keys off the ground and rose back to a standing position. Before he could begin to move towards the blue car he felt a hand reach around his neck from behind. Stiles immediately put both of his hands up in a surrendering position.

“Why the hell have you been following me?” Henry question.

“You’re a quick one, aren’t you, Twinkle-toes? Didn’t even see you.” Stiles retorted. He needed to buy a little time in order to gather some magic in his gut.

A growl emitted from an unseen throat and Stiles felt as the claws lengthened and caught on the skin of his neck.

“Answer me!” Henry shouted.

“Maybe you should answer my questions.” Stiles responded lightly.

Stiles’s fingertips began to tingle as his magic flowed out through them and formed into a bright flash of light. It was one of the first tricks he had learned and he developed it into a powerful tool, just for times like these.

Henry shouted in pain and let go of Stiles neck to place his hands in front of his eyes.

Stiles spun away from the werewolf and began to prime his magic for another defensive attack.

When Henry was done rubbing his sore eyes he threw his hands down at his side. Up close, Stiles could finally take good notice of his features. He had a light pink scar running horizontally on the length of his left cheek. His dark, curly hair contrasted with his pale skin and watery green eyes.

“You’re going to regret that. You’re one of his little witches aren’t you? Where is Emily? Tell me!” Henry yelled as his eyes flashed red and his fangs elongated.

An alpha? Seriously? With his build Stiles had suspected he was a beta. Shit.

“Emily? The girl? But you-” Stiles tried to negotiate.

“So you do know who she is. Were you the one who grabbed her? Tell me where she is!” Henry had gotten tired of standing and talking. 

The alpha rushed forwards with his beta shift fully activated.

Stiles knew that he couldn’t take this dude on in full close combat. That was out of his element. He preferred to stay back and attack from a distance. So with another, bigger flash, he took off into the woods full sprint.

Stiles tried to be quiet but it was hard when your running for your life. 

He heard Henry roar in anger at falling for the trick again. Stiles could hear as Henry’s leaping bounds approached at an alarming speed until he was right behind him. Somehow Stiles’ legs moved a little faster. He was sure it was his fear of death spurring him on.

He was too focused on running that he failed to dodge when Henry got close enough to manage a rage filled blow to Stiles’ torso. Stiles cried out before tripping over a wayward log and rolling onto his back. Henry stood over Stiles and growled menacingly. Stiles used his left elbow to prop himself up and his right arm to guard his newly injured left side. It was wet and was beginning to sting as the initial shock wore off.

“You should have answered my questions.” Henry’s voice was lacking of any sympathy for the boy at his feet..

As a last spurt of Stiles’ magic, the tree limbs and trunks lurched forwards and grabbed hold of Henry’s limbs tightly. Stiles knew that they wouldn’t be able to hold him forever and scrambled up, still clutching at his side. 

He had newfound effort as he ran to his jeep. The pain with each step kept him alert. The keys he had thrown in his pockets chafed and jangled on his leg. He briefly thought that they were probably the reason Henry had been able to follow him so easily. The thought was banished from his mind as he focused solely on reaching the jeep.

Stiles caught sight of the familiar baby blue vehicle and gave a breath of relief among his quick huffs from running and gasps of pain. 

An impossibly loud roar ripped through the trees and foliage. Stiles grit his teeth together in equal parts of determination, pain, and fear.

As he reached the car he let go of his torso and fished the set of keys from his pocket, simultaneously smearing blood on his pants and the keys themselves. As he fumbled he heard Henry shout again.

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU!” The threat gave him a new burst of energy and he managed to unlock the car door and throw himself into the driver’s seat. 

One miracle that night was that the car started almost instantly, allowing Stiles to rip out of the parking spot, not even putting the car in reverse. He raced down the road at a pace his dad may have strangled him for, had he been present, until he felt safe. It was at this time that the adrenaline and shock had almost completely worn off. 

The ache in his stomach was sharper than before and he was beginning to feel just how much blood he had lost running through those woods.

He was thankful for the empty roads when he swerved after reaching for his phone he had left in the cup holder.

His instinct was to call Scott, but then he remembered Scott would still be on his trip to New York with Kira for almost a week. 

Shit. Nice going Stiles. Going after an alpha when your only alpha friend was halfway across the world. Who else then? Liam? No. He’s the equivalent of a zygote in matters like this. Isaac? Uh, definite no. Derek? He was pretty skilled at not dying. 

Stiles scrolled down and selected the contact, praying that he hadn’t gotten a new number in the past 7 months since he had last called him. 

Stiles pressed the dial button with his left hand and corrected the jeep’s position with his right.

As he placed the top of the phone up to his ear he counted the rings.

1

2

3

4

5

Just as he almost accepted his fate he heard a tired, “What do you want.”

“Oh, thank fuck! Listen, I need your help man. I went after this dude ‘cause this girl went missing and then he got behind me, and I had to run. And then I was down and he got me and-shit- I think I’m gonna bleed out in my car-” Stiles was left taking a deep breath after wasting so much energy on the words.

“What? Stiles where are you?” Derek’s voice had sobered at the news and held no more traces of sleep.

“I- I’m heading to Berkeley. But, I don’t- I don’t know if I can make it. My eyes, they keep going foggy. I’m surprised I haven’t gone off the road. I’m just a few miles out though. If I-” Stiles was interrupted from another speech spree.

“I’m on my way. Go as far as you can, don’t crash, and don’t fall asleep.” Derek said.

“Easy for you to say. You know, I’ve only seen like 8 cars all night. Wait, I see the the lot for Berkeley. Meet me there, Kay?” Stiles blinked furiously in an effort to refocus his tired eyes. He hung up and tossed his phone into the passenger seat, barely registered the new smear of red he had caused on its screen.

Stiles’ eyelids were already hanging heavily and his grip around his torso weakened along with his hold on the wheel as he swung the car into the parking lot jerkily.

Veering into half a parking space and hitting the curb he gritted his teeth as another wave of pain shot through him. He turned off the car and sat in the seat to focus on his shallow breaths. Each one came with a new ache like a twisted 2 for the price of one 1 deal.

Stiles slumped down in the seat and used the lever on the side to lean the seat back a few inches. His head lolled to the left and he his eyes closed before he even recognized the familiar flash of light coming from his phone screen bearing a red and green symbol and one name: Derek.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Derek be able to help?

“I’m on my way. Go as far as you can, don’t crash, and don’t fall asleep.” Derek said.

“Easy for you to say. You know, I’ve only seen like 8 cars all night. Wait, I see the lot for Berkeley. Meet me there, Kay?” Stiles’ voice came through on the phone before a harsh beep signaled the call had ended.

Did he just hang up on him when he was potentially dying? Derek continued to ring Stiles’ number.

Derek was already in his car, speeding down the highway with his eyes out for law enforcement. Stiles had always been the one to think things through. How did he get himself in such a big mess? It might help if Derek even knew what this big mess was. So far he’d only heard that Stiles was attacked. Derek had no idea how badly. How long it had been since the attack. It had already been almost an hour of driving to where Stiles was. How long had it been before Stiles called?

Derek slammed a hand against the wheel with a small huff of breath. How come this kind of thing always happened to those around him? Derek wouldn’t be too late this time. Not after everything he had gone through to maintain Scott’s rag tag pack, after his desperate pack fell apart he wouldn’t allow Scott’s pack to end up in the same ruins.

The buildings of the Berkeley campus came into view as Derek drove past a thick grove of trees. 

“Finally.” Derek muttered with a sigh.

The black car swung a hard left into the first entry way connected to the Berkeley campus. It slowed as Derek looked both left and right to spot the blue car among the sea of vehicles already packed into the lot. 

His eyes flickered to his beta shift state to get a better look at the unilluminated car lot. He finally spotted the jeep parked askew in a lot at the end of a line of inactive cars.

Derek put the car in park right where it was and hopped out without closing the door. 

As he reached the door he spotted Stiles' slumped figure in the driver’s seat. He wrenched the door open and scrunched his nose as the copper smell wafted out, breaching the night air instantly.

Stiles laid still except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest from quiet breaths.

“God, Stiles. What the hell did you get yourself into?” Derek spoke to himself.

He spotted Stiles’ right hand splayed limply across the wound. Stiles’ shirt was torn but even then, he couldn’t see the full injury due to the coverage of blood spread around it. 

“Ok, c’mon, let’s get you out of here.” Derek said.

He reached into the car and slid both arms under the boy; one under his knees and one wrapped around his torso.

The bridal style provided the easiest transport Stiles to his car after Derek used one of his free legs to kick the jeep shut.

He carefully placed Stiles into the passenger seat and laid the seat back generously in an attempt to keep him from falling forwards.

Once he had then packed himself into the car he began to head to an established safe house he had just recently left about a week ago. He was tracking his own demons when Stiles had called. Thankfully it wasn’t much farther than the nearest hotel which would have asked too many questions for Derek to answer and it was relatively secluded by a nice amount of trees and foliage.

And he knew it had some basic medical supplies he had purchased in the case of wolfs bane, and some food that probably hadn’t gone bad.

While on a straight stretch he fished his phone back out of the center console and dialed a number he had been contacting quite often as his little hunts had gotten more frequent. 

After a few rings it picks up.

“You do know it’s 5 am? As in the morning?”

“Peter, I need you to listen to me carefully. I need you to meet me at the safe house near the Red Sand Motel. And bring all the med supplies you have on you. Call me when you get there. ” Derek ordered.

“Derek, what happened? Who is hurt?” Peter’s questioning continued.

“It’s Stiles. Now hurry up.” Derek ended the call before Peter could make any more comments.

He continued to drive, only occasionally glancing at Stiles who began to grow paler.

_______________

Derek spotted the barely familiar lot of the safe house just as the sky began to lighten, signaling that it was at least 6:30.

The gravel crunched under the wheels of Derek’s car as he slowed down and pulled into the driveway. The ramshackle house didn’t have much going for it other than its private location. The windows were practically frosted with the layer of dust that covered them and the wood had long since turned a drab gray.

Grabbing the house key out of the center console Derek also skillfully turned off the car and stepped out in one fluid motion. The man stuffed the car keys in his pocket and then hurried to the other side of the car. He then again picked Stiles’s limp body up and carried him to the porch of the rickety building. With a single kick the door flew inwards and Derek walked inside.

He carried Stiles to the sole bedroom. Derek gently laid the young spark down-on the thankfully clean quilt- and rushed to the bedroom’s attached bathroom. Derek grabbed a towel and paused as he looked for some painkillers in the mirror cabinet.

It was bare except for a single empty, dented bullet casing. It had some hunter’s sigil etched into the side.

Derek muttered a curse and felt his phone as it began to vibrate in his back pocket.

Peter’s name popped up and Derek slid the green icon to the side while placing the phone between his ear and shoulder.

As the side of his head helped pin the phone, he walked back over to Stiles’s side and pressed the towel to the wound with a decent amount of pressure.

“I’m just a few minutes out Derek, I need some answers though. What’s wrong with Stiles?” His uncle pressed.

“I think- I think he was bit Peter. But I don’t know if he’s gonna be able to pull through.” Derek answered solemnly.

“Have you talked to Scott yet?”

“No he’s not answering.”

“We’ve got a good deal of work ahead of us, then.”

_______________

Derek was still holding the towel to Stiles’ side when Peter walked in.  
Peter took note of the room with a grim look on his face. Stiles’ face was pale with dark circles underneath his eyes. He counted the beads of sweat that had accumulated on his face. He also observed the bloody towel pressed against the boy’s torso. The blood was mostly concentrated in a single area instead of thoroughly soaking the towel. Derek had done well in applying pressure to the wound until his arrival. 

Peter made an assessment of Derek as well. His brow was pulled tightly towards the middle of his face and he had a splash of blood on his shirt and hands. Spreading from his hands were familiar black veins that worked on leaching the pain from the injury.

“Derek.” Peter spoke.

“Peter, he was attacked. It looks like a werewolf but I can’t be sure until he wakes up.” Derek responded.

“If it was a werewolf this isn’t a normal turning. He’s not healing.”

“I know that. But his blood isn’t black either. I can’t get a hold of Scott so until he can get here we need to at least make sure he doesn’t bleed out.”

“Alright, but as soon as he dies or heals I’m leaving. I don’t want to deal with the aftermath of either of those outcomes. I’ll grab the stuff out of the car.” With those words Peter turned around and swiftly walked out of the small house.

When Peter returned he was holding a large white box. It was old with the paint chipping off. But the broken, black letters on the metal container could still be read: FIRST AID.

“It’s got bandages and some burn cream. And lucky for us- and Stiles- I previously took the liberty of adding in a needle and a spool of suture thread. Now that the blood has had a good chance to clot we need to close it up and then wrap it well. We’ll need some clean water though to clear it up so I can see what I’m doing,” Peter gestured to Derek and then to the door, “This place doesn’t have running water so go pump some up from the hand water pump around back into a bucket. Let’s hope it’s clean enough to not give him an infection.”

Derek nodded and stood up whilst still keeping his hands pressed to Stiles’ side. Peter then walked over to replace the pressure as Derek took his hands away to fetch the water.

As Derek returned with clean hands and a bucket full of fresh water Peter began ordering him to get a pot and some wood for the manual stove. Derek then lit the fire to boil the water in order to kill off some of the bacteria. He also threw in a small towel and a wash rag. Stiles remained pale and feverish as the water boiled. 

Peter gave his approval and told Derek to take the water off of the stove. As the water cooled, he walked back into the bedroom with his uncle and the injured Stilinski.

Peter used the water to begin clearing the blood away from the wound using the wash cloth and still warm water. Derek waited patiently and studied them both.

Peter’s look of concentration was a stark comparison of the painful one Stiles displayed. 

As Peter continued to dab away at the mottled and lacerated skin he spoke up, “Good news and bad news. Good news first: it’s not a bite. Bad news: it’s a huge scratch. He’s lucky though. It mainly tore through the fat and muscle and not any organs.”

“Shit… Well, when he wakes up I’ll try Scott again. He’ll be able to take it from there.” Derek replied.

Derek’s uncle was silent and continued to dab at the wound and let the reddening water trickle back into the bucket. Peter halted and turned to Derek as he squeezed the rag out again, “Derek go sit down in the living room. Take a nap, just stop hanging over me with that brooding look of yours. Besides, someone will have to watch over him later.”

“Fine, but if he wakes up let me know.” Derek turned from his uncle as he exited the room.

He pulled the door closed behind him. 

As Derek struggled to find a comfortable position on the couch; in the other room Peter shook his head softly. He lifted the rag to get a better look at the black splotches that had begun to stain the washcloth.

“Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I've got the whole story planned out it is just taking me a while to write it. But, despite corona freeing up some time, I've got some family projects I have to work on too. But stick with me and I promise I will see this fic to its finish!


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